[authors' note: we regret nothing.] -=-=-=-=-=- LAW & ORDER: BLU EPISODE 0: PILOT PART I of II by Anne the Cat Detective (The Dustbowl Horror; Disconnect; Howl, Dog; Entire Team Is Ladies) & Toxo (SNUFF) SCENE, EXT. GOLDEN GATE PARK, SAN FRANCISCO - MORNING, DAY 1 Cops mill around a fresh crime scene, taking photographs, marking clues. In the background, uniformed officers hold back a small clump of looky-loos and press. DETECTIVE SNIPER pulls up in, and gets out of an unmarked squad car. Cut to; Closeup on his signature boots hitting the gravel. We pan up a long, flared pantleg, past a large, but not ostentatious belt buckle in the shape of his old class insignia--it is all that’s left of his former uniform. His shirt is short-sleeved, button-up, with wide, pointed collar and a thick maroon tie. Camera follows his hand up to his pocket, where it plucks out (normal, not yellow) aviators, settling them onto his face, where the shot lingers. We haven’t yet seen his eyes. Cut to; Shot over SNIPER’s shoulder as he shuts the car door and starts into the crime scene. CAPTAIN CONAGHER walks to meet him, DETECTIVE SPY at his elbow. Spy wears his usual dark blue suit and mask, accessorized with the detective badge in his breast pocket. Cut to; Profile shot of the three facing. SPY extends his hand, and SNIPER shakes it firmly. CONAGHER seems aware of the awkwardness of the situation, but the other two men are cool. CAPTAIN CONAGHER Detective--your new partner, just transferred in from vice. Guess you two are already acquainted. SNIPER Guess we are. SPY A pleasure to see you again. The SNIPER and SPY both wander over to the victim. There is blood everywhere, forming a dark hole around the drenched body on the grass. The victim is indistinct, facedown and sprawled. The MEDIC reaches it at the same time. SNIPER Doc. What’s it look like? Cut to angle up from the body into MEDIC’s face. He insinctually reaches a gloved hand down to the victim’s (our) carotid, looking up at SNIPER and SPY as he addresses them. MEDIC I did not get here any earlier than you, give me a mome--GOTT IN HIMMEL! This man is still alive! Did you idiots not check for a pulse?! Cut to the scruffy hippie paramedic team, loafing around the open back of the ambulance. They look at each other, wide eyed. PARAMEDIC Uh, I dunno man, there was so much blood, like, he looked dead... Cut to MEDIC, already performing chest compressions. MEDIC It may not all be his! Push fluids and get him to San Francisco General! Now, you morons! Schnell! MEDIC surrenders the CPR to one of the paramedics and directs the ensuing chaos as they jostle the young man’s body onto the ambulance and start a saline IV. Pan backwards over SNIPER and SPY’s shoulders in the foreground, facing the action. Focus pulls to them. SPY’s hands appears from below frame, holding two cigarettes. SNIPER takes one, and they turn towards the camera, walking past it (towards the car). SNIPER It was the boy, wasn’t it? Title music [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XrLe54pyNgM]; fade to opening credits.
COMMERCIAL BREAK Fade in on a very British Colonial-styled office. There are several big game trophies lining the walls. SAXTON HALE enters, striking a match on his chest hair with one hand while rolling a cigarette with the other. SAXTON HALE Greetings, television viewers. You may recognize me as SAXTON HALE! MAYOR! AUSTRALIAN! You may also recognize me as former CEO of Mann Co. Well, that’s a filthy lie! My lawyers inform me that we do not make weapons anymore, but Mann Co. is alive and well. I know what you’re thinking. ‘But Saxton, if you don’t make weapons, then what do you make?’ (cont’d) HALE strolls around the large desk that dominates the office, then sits on the edge, showing off his exceedingly manly legs. SAXTON HALE (cont’d) And to that I say, THAT’S MISTER HALE TO YOU, YOU WHINING HIPPIE! But if you’re not a hippie, then congratulations! You probably bathe and use currency to obtain goods and services. And there’s a slim chance I won’t be murdering you to death! For you non-hippies, Mann Co. has an exciting new offer; (cont’d) HALE reaches behind the desk, pulling out a Madame Dixie. SAXTON HALE (cont’d) HATS! If you have money, and need quality headwear, then you need a Mann Co. hat! Remember, nothing says manliness like Mann Co.!
Is it bad that I heard this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OlCVNn9ZeY) after the first sentence?
I laughed. It's an interesting idea for a cross-over, and I can just picture them all cop-serious. Not to mention Hale and his hats hehe.
SCENE, INT. SAN FRANCISCO GENERAL HOSPITAL - SAME MORNING, DAY 1 Fade in. Shot of MEDIC standing outside Scout’s room in an antiseptic, off-white hallway. In the background, SPY and SNIPER jog towards him. He looks up from his clipboard as they approach. MEDIC He’s awake. Drifting, but mostly lucid. He did not want to discuss the attack, but from his injuries and state of mind, it was probably sexual assault. And his blood tests will show he was intoxicated at the time of the attack; he’s coming down now. And I was right; not all of the blood was his. He’d be dead if he’d left that much on the lawn. SPY Can we go in? MEDIC Yes. Be gentle with him. We don’t know what he’s been though. SPY opens the door and walks inside. SNIPER lingers. SNIPER Did he recognize you? MEDIC It is...hard to say. He didn’t say anything. SNIPER Thanks, doc. SNIPER hurries into the room. Cut to; INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - SAME MORNING, DAY 1 Angle up from the bed. SPY stands with his hands in his pockets, looking down. SNIPER joins him. The room is painted yellow, and we hear the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. SNIPER How you feelin’, kid? Cut to RED Scout, bruised and bandaged on his pillows. He either grins or grimaces. SCOUT Told ya never to call me that. SPY Can you tell us what you remember? SCOUT Not much... Cut to a low angle on SNIPER and SPY. SNIPER is attempting a tight, sympathetic smile, SPY is a little more suspicious. SPY You don’t remember anything? What about before you were attacked? SNIPER Take your time. SPY (unimpressed) Whatever happened to you, we’ve seen worse. Right now we’re more concerned about getting your playmate off the streets before he makes another buddy. Or don’t you keep track of your boyfriends? SCOUT I told you, I don’t remember shit! Okay? SPY Sure, sure. Maybe you need a little more time. Keep it up. You’ll have a few years in Alcatraz for obstructing a police investigation. SNIPER No, that’s fine, it’s fine. Just try and remember what you can, we’ll be out in the hall. Holler if you need anything. The SNIPER grips SPY’s elbow and practically yanks him out into the hall. Cut to; INT. SAN FRANCISCO GENERAL HOSPITAL - SAME MORNING, DAY 1 Hospital corridor outside the Scout’s room. The SNIPER waits until all foot traffic in the stretch of hallway has passed before leaning into the SPY’s personal space. SNIPER What the hell was that? SPY What was what? SNIPER Don’t even-- You-- I don’t know how things got done in Vice, but that’s not how we treat rape victims! SPY He is obviously holding out on us! SNIPER ‘Cause he’s scared, I wouldn’t wonder. You weren’t doing any good in there, bullying him like that. He needs to feel he can trust us. SPY I don’t like being lied to when I’m trying to do my job. You don’t scare these people, they won’t tell you anything. SNIPER Then I’ll do you a favour and tell you the truth: you’re an ass. And I don’t want you shitting up my case with your sleazy tough guy routine. SPY “Your caseâ€? Maybe you need to take a step back from this one. The SNIPER moves back from the SPY, crossing his arms. SNIPER I don’t know what you’re talking about. SPY He was your teammate. Clearly it is affecting your ability to keep a professional distance. SNIPER You just got here. Watch who you’re calling unprofessional, mate. SPY I am calling you unprofessional, mate, until you stop coddling that boy and do your job. SNIPER It’s not “coddlingâ€. Vics don’t talk if they feel threatened. That’s SVU 101. SPY (graciously) Fine. Play it your way. Hopefully the uniforms who canvassed the park came up with a witness... And, I hate to say it... SNIPER What? SPY We will probably have to track down the rest of your old teammates. And they will not be very keen to talk to me. Can you handle it? SNIPER Course I can. Mind you, I haven’t seen most of those blokes in ages. Only person from RED I talk to much is... SCENE, INT. POLICE STATION - DAY 1 Bullpen. JANE and TAVISH are sharing a desk. TAVISH is laughing over something, JANE is reluctantly chuckling along. The SNIPER appears in the doorway, expression dour. He catches TAVISH’ eye, and the laughter stops. SNIPER Can I have a word, mate? TAVISH Aye. ‘Course. Jane...? JANE just waves him off. SNIPER (uncomfortable) Thought you’d want to know... Scout-- Our Scout-- I mean, our Scout from Teufort. RED’s Scout. He’s in the hospital. TAVISH Bloody hell... How? SNIPER He turned up in the park this morning. Beaten pretty severely, assaulted probably. We just came from there. TAVISH Oh god. And? SNIPER And, he’s awake, but he didn’t want to talk yet. TAVISH You like anyone for this? SNIPER We got nothing without a statement. Witnesses didn’t see anything except the mess that got left. TAVISH Maybe I should take a shot at him. We had some times, me n’ the lad. SNIPER Thanks, mate. Might help. We’re off--didn’t really have time to check out the park yet. TAVISH nods and beckons JANE, they grab their coats and exit in the background, headed to the hospital. SNIPER joins SPY, and they do the same, headed for the crime scene. SCENE, EXT. GOLDEN GATE PARK CRIME SCENE - DAY 1 The park has been secured and taped off. SPY and SNIPER are led through the scene by an investigator. INVESTIGATOR We haven’t finished our sweep yet, but I guess I’ll leave you to it. File will be on your desks back at the station. SPY Thanks. The investigator leaves. Over the next dialog, SPY and SNIPER retrace the path of the crime, moving from clue to clue on the grass. SPY Let’s go over it again. Body’s here-- SNIPER Victim. SPY Victim. With blood on the grass here, here, and over there. Was he walking or being carried? SNIPER Walking. Carrying leaves deeper footprints-- doubles the body weight. It was just him. SPY Right. So he was already bleeding--or somebody was--by the time he hit the grass. Where was he attacked? SNIPER Someone must have done him elsewhere, then dumped him here. SPY Maybe he dumped them-- SNIPER Come again? SPY is crouched on the grass, holding up a clotted peel of athletic tape. It’s bloody. SPY --And they didn’t like it. Push in on tape. INT. FORENSIC LAB - DAY 1 Cut to same tape, being held by the MEDIC back at the forensic lab. Pull back from tape, taking in MEDIC, SPY and SNIPER leaning on countertops or chairs. The lab is brushed steel and old-fashioned porcelain tile. Microscopes, lab equipment, and anatomical references are visible on windows and corkboards. SFX: pigeon cooing. MEDIC Athletic tape. For wrapping lacrosse sticks, sprained knuckles, what have you. MEDIC turns to address SPY and SNIPER, who have not reacted. As his other shoulder comes into frame, we see it has a white dove on it. MEDIC Ah yes, how could I forget-- you two are not the sporting type. You see-- SNIPER We know what bloody athletic tape is! MEDIC snickers and returns to the central slab, which is arrayed with a variety of crime scene items. His dove coos. Camera pans from MEDIC’s head to the table, pulling back and up to an overhead view, taking in all three of them as they stand around the table. MEDIC points out each item in turn. MEDIC When they found him, his pants were down, which is why SVU got the call. Here they are. In the pockets we found a rolled bill with traces of cocaine, so it wasn’t a robbery, unless they were after something besides money. Hair pomade, some change, and this matchbook, which I think you’ll find particularly interesting. Cut to closeup of the matchbook as SPY plucks it up with a pair of long tweezers. He turns it this way and that, showing the cover design: a red and gold print of a domino mask, with flowing ribbons on either side. The scrollwork font reads MARGOULIN ROUGE, over a fleur-de-lis. SNIPER There’s no address or phone number. SPY I know where this is. Sniper looks at him, surprised. MEDIC There was something else. About the physical exam. SNIPER What’s that? MEDIC Naturally, I assumed he had been raped, that the blood was evidence of physical trauma from the attack. But once we got him cleaned up and examined, it was apparent that he was... not...unaccustomed to this particular kind of trauma. They look at him blankly. He clears his throat. MEDIC The blood was from lacerations caused by blunt trauma around his upper body and arms only, and a possible assailant or second person--we’ll know when we get the blood tests back-- SPY Cut to the chase, docteur. MEDIC To put it bluntly, gentlemen, the young man is extremely “experiencedâ€. I haven’t seen that kind of long term tissue stretching outside of anthropology textbooks. SPY snorts, losing his composure briefly. SNIPER looks annoyed. He points at the matchbook. SNIPER Has this thing been dusted for prints? MEDIC Yes. We only lifted the victim’s. SNIPER snatches it out of SPY’s grip and storms out the door. SPY follows, his arms held out from his sides. SPY Oh come on! SCENE, EXT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - AFTERNOON, DAY 1 A nightclub/bar, the frontage in tasteful red and gold. The neon signs are all dark. SPY and SNIPER step into frame in front of the building. Cut to closeup on the matchbook in SNIPER’S hand, then both their faces. SNIPER looks quizzical, SPY bemused. SNIPER You’re sure this is the address? SPY You don’t think it looks like his style? SNIPER That’s what I’m worried about... SNIPER knocks on the door. The BLU SCOUTMA opens it. SCOUTMA Deliveries in the--oh. You fellas are from my boy’s precinct, aren’t you? Is he all right? She steps aside, letting them in. Cut to; SCENE, INT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - AFTERNOON, DAY 1 The entryway of the club, opening onto the main lounge. Everything is dark wood, brushed steel, deep red velvet and decadence. There is a long bar, several tables, and a stage, all high class. SPY Your son is fine, madamoiselle. SNIPER Do you work here? SCOUTMA We own the place, doll. And we live upstairs. If you’re not here about my boy, then...? SNIPER Looking to talk to the proprietor, actually. SPY The other proprietor. About a customer. SCOUTMA He’s doing inventory, I’ll get him. She heads to the back, leaving the SPY and SNIPER to wait in the entry near the cloakroom. There is a small velvet padded bench, and the SPY sits. SPY Nice place. SNIPER If you like that kind of thing. SCOUTMA returns with the RED SPY. He is down to his waistcoat and shirtsleeves, and carrying a clipboard, and speaking with her as they approach. RED SPY Try to find out who has been nipping at the chartreuse on duty. It’s going too fast. SCOUTMA Sure thing, honey. RED SPY I will speak with the gentlemen in my office. She kisses the RED SPY on the cheek before flitting off. He leads the SPY and the SNIPER through the club. Music: Suspenseful sting [ http://tindeck.com/listen/zjwo ]. Fade to black.
I'm dying. I'm dead. For some reason, imagining them in early 70's clothing and early 70's picture quality, and then hearing the theme song, made me lose all my shit. Fantastic.
COMMERCIAL BREAK Fade in on SAXTON HALE, lounging in his office chair, feet up on his desk. Quick take to the camera. SAXTON HALE G’day, voting public! Didn’t see ya there! You all are probably hearing some unpleasant rumours swirling around now, about how I rigged a monkey fight, or a roulette wheel, or a mayoral election. And I’m here on a paid television advertisement to tell you that just isn’t true! (cont’d) HALE stands, walking around his desk. BIDWELL enters with a tray, lifting the cloche, and HALE picks up the steak that is presented, taking a large bite. SAXTON HALE (around a mouthful of steak) You see, mayoral elections are a funny thing. Sort of like casino games, or monkey fights. But I give you my word of honour, on my moustache, that while I have killed many an ape myself, I have never rigged a fight between two monkeys. If you want an honest, non-monkey fight-rigging man for your mayor, vote ‘NO’ on the special election to recall Mayor Saxton Hale. Scene fades to a close-up still of HALE’s chest hair. VOICEOVER Paid for by the committee to legalize monkey fights, and personally approved by HALE (voiceover) SAXTON HALE!
Fade in; SCENE, INT. RED SPY’s OFFICE - DAY 1 Well appointed, with heavy furniture and wine-red drapes and upholstery. RED SPY lingers over a bar cart. RED SPY Ah, but you are on duty now. I suppose then I should not tempt you with a drink. SPY Still no, thank you. The two spies acknowledge each other, the SNIPER is lost. Beat. They all exchange glances, tense, before RED SPY gestures to the chairs and they all sit at the same time, the RED SPY behind his desk, the two detectives in the guest chairs. SNIPER Wondering about the last time you talked to Scout--ah, our Scout. That is, RED’s former Scout. A look of intense displeasure crosses the RED SPY’s face. RED SPY Not recently. He has... not been welcome here, not for some time. A month, maybe more. There were... complaints. SPY Complaints? RED SPY He made some of the employees uncomfortable. I told him he could return once he had cleaned up his act. I take it he has not? You hardly looked me up for a friendly chat. SNIPER Nah, hardly. He get into any fights with anyone? RED SPY (suddenly thinking of it) He hasn’t been murdered, has he? SPY We are not homicide, fortunately. RED SPY Good. SNIPER Any fights you know of? RED SPY He left one of our waitresses in tears-- SNIPER That unusual? RED SPY (slightly defensive) I make it my priority to keep our employees safe and happy, yes. Have you met the bouncer? SNIPER Haven’t had the pleasure. RED SPY He might be someone to talk to, as regards dealing with our old friend. And one of the barbacks refused to ever serve him again. But there have been no altercations on my property. The SNIPER rises. SNIPER That’ll be all for now, then. Mind if we call you later, if we think of anything else? RED SPY Monsieur, I do my utmost to be a good citizen. You may call on me anytime. At this last line, RED SPY pulls a business card from his vest pocket and tenders it to SNIPER, who tucks it away. They all shake hands. The SNIPER leaves, and the SPY hurries to follow. The RED SPY brings up the rear, showing them out. RED SPY Gentlemen. I do hope everything turns out all right... SPY (handing him a card) If you think of anything else, please, let us know. SCENE, EXT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - DAY They begin to stroll down the street. SPY Really? That was it? SNIPER What did you want me to do? We can come back again later to interview the employees, but-- SPY I think you could have gotten more out of him than that. SNIPER Sometimes it’s not about throwing furniture around until someone cries. Try a little finesse once in a while. The irony of the direction of this advice is not lost on either of them, and the conversation warms slightly. SPY snorts. SPY When I was in Vice, we did not play pat-a-cake with whoremongers. Or didn’t you know? Clearly, the SNIPER did not. SNIPER What, that place--? SPY Nothing actionable... we needed them, after all, But yes. SNIPER I don’t believe it. SPY Not everyone you worked with then holds to the same “moral†standards as yourself. Vice left the Rouge alone because they never got in our way, and smoothed a few operations when we needed them to. I do not know if the heroin rumour has any teeth, but I can assure you they do a neat little trade in pretty young things, of either sex. And your old friend does not ask anything of them that he does not offer, himself. It is possible the lady does not know. I know her son does not... SNIPER Well you’re not in Vice anymore, so... So forget about all that, and focus on the case. If Vice nails him, they nail him. We’re only interested in what happened with our vic. SPY Alright, but it may all be tied in together. What do you think he was doing with that girl, to make her cry? SNIPER He’s our victim. SPY He’s the victim this time, but a victim today does not mean a saint yesterday. What about the boy who refused to serve him? A bartender, or something else? You need to ask the ugly questions to get the truth, even if you’d rather not hear it. If you cannot do that, you’ll be waving your friends out of jail with one hand while you’re throwing civilians under the bus with the other. SNIPER I’ll be fine. We weren’t... we weren’t close. We weren’t friends, just... We were teammates. All of us. I want to get to the bottom of this, but it’s... I’ll be fine. SPY If you say so. I’ve seen things happen to a few good cops--men who thought they knew where they stood. SNIPER Well, I know where I stand. (BEAT) Getting late enough to eat yet, you think? The SPY pauses on the sidewalk and stares at him, a little thrown by the sudden offer. SPY It seems about right. SNIPER A little early for dinner, maybe, but once we get back to the station, I doubt either one of us is going anywhere for the rest of the night. C’mon. Know a place. SPY Lead on. The SNIPER takes him down a side street. Cut to; SCENE, EXT. CHINESE RESTAURANT - LATE AFTERNOON A small, mostly-empty restaurant. A statue of a cat sits on top of the cash register, gold paint chipped. The furniture is inexpensive, the decor low-end, but even before the dinner rush, the tables aren’t empty. SNIPER Okay, so it looks like a bit of a dive, I promise you though, the egg foo yong is to die for. The SPY merely smiles and crosses his arms. Quick couple of cuts, the two are seated, food is brought, the SNIPER and SPY begin to actually get along. SPY No, no, I should apologize for giving you such a hard time... SNIPER It’s fine. I’d tell you the same, if it was someone you’d known before. SPY Funny, isn’t it... the two of us, partners. I suppose now it is my job to keep other people from stabbing you in the back. SNIPER (raising his glass in a mock-toast) Well, that’ll be a nice change. SPY I probably never would have come in here, if you hadn’t told me about it. SNIPER Yeah? SPY Next time, I will try to remember, to be a little nicer to the boy... He does have to know we are on his side. SNIPER Yeah. The bill arrives at the table, and with it the fortune cookies. SPY Xie xie. SNIPER You did not just speak Chinese to our waitress. SPY Of course not. SNIPER But-- SPY Mandarin. Mandarin is a language. Cantonese is also a language, though I don’t speak it. “Chinese†is not a language. SNIPER All right. But you speak...Mandarin? SPY About five words. But for a minute there, you were impressed. The Sniper laughs, cracking open one of the cookies. Close up on back of fortune. ‘Your Lucky Colors are Red and Blue’ SNIPER Well that makes absolutely no sense. SPY In bed. SNIPER What? SPY You have to add ‘in bed’ to the end. I’ve been assured that this is a practice. Also, I think you’re reading the lotto numbers. Spy reaches over to take the fortune. SNIPER It wasn’t numbers-- SPY ‘You will find a new love in bed’? That hardly changes things... Sorry. You appear to have an uninteresting fortune. SNIPER (flustered) So what’s yours, then? SPY “Cats always land on their feet, except when there is no floor.†(cont’d) SPY leaves his fortune on the table. After a moment, SNIPER pockets his. SPY (cont’d) So how did you want to split the check? SNIPER Nah, I asked you. I’ll get it this time. SPY If you’re sure... SNIPER Well... we’re partners now. Figure we’ll probably wind up eating enough meals together for you to pay for the next one. SPY Oh, well, as long as we are partners, I am sure I will have plenty of opportunities to... pay you back. SNIPER Come on, let’s see if the kid’s remembered anything. SPY Maybe your old Demoman got something out of him. SNIPER Maybe. I’ll talk to him again just in case. You might want to hang back this time. SPY (with a smirk) Oh, I’ll watch the ‘expert’ work, shall I? They head for the exit, bell over the door tinkling. Cut to; SCENE, INT. SCOUT’S HOSPITAL ROOM - EVENING SCOUT is propped up slightly in bed. SNIPER sits on the edge of the bed to talk to him. SPY stands in the doorway, one hand fidgeting with an unlit cigarette while he watches the two. SCOUT I told Demo everything I could remember. SNIPER Yeah, good on ya, Scout. That’ll help. SCOUT It wasn’t much... SCOUT rubs at one bandaged arm and looks down. SPY (making an effort) Thank you. Every little bit counts. SCOUT Hey, you guys... you guys are cops and all. So you’d know if... See... SNIPER Whatcha need, champ? SCOUT looks up, past SNIPER, to SPY. SCOUT You’d be straight with me, if I asked you something important, right? SPY Well... SNIPER I promise you, I’ll tell you everything I’m allowed to tell you. SCOUT It’s not that. I just want to know if they found my bat. It’s kinda real important to me, and I had it... I had it with me when it happened, except it wasn’t... it wasn’t enough. If it had just been enough, this wouldn’t have happened... The overwhelming frustration verges on tears, and SCOUT bites back on them. He impotently thumps his fist into the mattress, wincing at the pain from his injuries. He is battered, wrung out, and looks simultaneously much older and much younger than he really is, but he still has his pride. SNIPER is a bit shaken to even see him come close to crying; the SPY remains more jaded. SNIPER I’ll see if anyone’s found it. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll take a look. The SNIPER glances over to the SPY in time to catch the brief flicker of his eyes towards the door, and he stands. SCOUT I just... It would really... It would help if I could have it back, ya know? SNIPER Sure thing, kid. See what I can do. The SNIPER follows the SPY out into the hallway, camera watching them from just inside the doorway of the SCOUT’s room. SNIPER They beat him with his own bat? SPY Merde...the tape! SNIPER We would have found it, that thing isn’t hard to miss. SPY (brushing a hand over his head in recollection) Oh, I recall. Here’s hoping the perp ditched it somewhere we can find it. SNIPER Go home and change, I’ll call the station, and we’ll meet later at the club. The SNIPER nods, clapping the SPY on the shoulder, and they part, leaving the open door framing nothing. Fade to black. FADE IN - SCENE, INT. SNIPER’S APT. - NIGHT Tracking shot moves through the living room, where SNIPER’s clothes are littered in a trail heading back into the bathroom. The apartment’s decor is spartan, and aside from the day’s clothes, the place is fairly neat. There are a few Australian aboriginal artifacts here and there, and a digeridoo leaning in one corner. A calendar is open to September 1975. Through the open bathroom door, the fogged mirror is visible. The shower is turned off. Eventually, SNIPER trudges out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, hair damp. The bedroom is across the hall from the bath. He disappears through the door. The towel comes sailing across the hall. Cut to; SCENE, EXT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - NIGHT SPY is standing to the side of the line to get into the club. RED HEAVY is manning the velvet rope, dressed in a casual suit and red shirt, business-as-usual. SPY is increasingly agitated, checking his watch. He looks slightly fresher than he had when he and the SNIPER parted, but his clothes look the same. Suddenly, SPY looks up, and his jaw drops. Slo-mo shot of SNIPER approaching the club. He wears a burnt-orange paisley shirt, open halfway to his waist, skin-tight flared jeans, and, on a gold chain around his neck, a large crocodile tooth. Camera pans over him slowly, down, then up. He removes his sunglasses and grins at the SPY. SNIPER You think I’ll make it past the bouncer? SPY Looking good, bebe. Besides, the bouncer is your friend, not mine. SNIPER recognizes the RED HEAVY, who nods to him. SNIPER (in an aside to SPY) Bebe? SPY coughs. SPY It’s a... partner thing. You know, like on the television. Starsky and Hutch, that kind of thing. SNIPER Bebe? SPY I thought you came here to interrogate them, not me. SNIPER (to RED HEAVY) Not really an interrogation, mate. Just asking some questions about Scout. He’s got himself in a bit of trouble, and we wondered if you’d seen him around much lately. RED HEAVY I get break in three hours. SNIPER That’s fine. Mind if we get in while we wait for ya? RED HEAVY Da. You are on list. He lets them through. SNIPER and SPY work their way around the edge of the main lounge, eyeing the clientele and the employees. Several women eye the SNIPER back. The SPY catches himself glowering at them and returns his expression to neutral. SPY (lighting a cigarette) Watch yourself with these ones. SNIPER What’s that? SPY You don’t look like a cop tonight. They’re going to be all over you. SNIPER doesn’t really know what to make of this remark, and turns to the bartender. SNIPER ‘Scuse me. We’re looking for the barback. BARTENDER Who’s looking? SPY (flipping his badge out, covertly) How’s tricks, Ray? BARTENDER Kid’s in the stockroom. Long shot: camera follows the partners through the club. SNIPER follows SPY as they weave through the crowd around the bar, past a few booths in the back, and through the doors into the back, marked “Employees Only". The SPY turns before they reach the end of the hall beyond, opening the stockroom door. SNIPER You know your way around. SPY I try. The BARBACK emerges from behind a row of shelves. He’s a skinny young man, dressed in black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and dark red tie and sleeve garters. There is a fading bruise high on his cheek. BARBACK Hey, employees only! SPY (pulling out his badge again) I’m sure an exception can be made. BARBACK Hey, I didn’t do anything... SNIPER Good. Because we’re pretty busy already. SPY We need to ask you some questions. About an erstwhile customer. SNIPER You two had some trouble. BARBACK (taking a stand) I don’t talk to the fuzz, man. SPY (advances on the kid smoothly) Sure. We don’t need to talk. We don’t need to check your ID, either, since you’re clearly old enough to be slinging drinks in a nightclub. BARBACK (backing up) Look...I guess I know the guy you mean. Dogtags? Big mouth? Always talking shit in a corny Brooklyn accent? SNIPER (smiling at this apt description of his old teammate) That’s him. BARBACK (inhales shakily) Yeah, he was a real piece of work. I mean, our clientele have a wide range of tastes-- SPY To put it delicately. BARBACK --But this guy was a real closet case. SNIPER Can you give us an example? BARBACK (nervous, jokey) Well, I didn’t get this shiner from being told twice, if you catch my drift, ha ha. And I mean, sure, we cater to that kind of thing. Some of the kids here aren’t about to turn down a good tip, just for getting roughed up a little. I mean, that is, they pay for the time they spend with the employees-- SPY Save it, kiddo. BARBACK Okay well, he just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I just hump kegs, y’know? I’m not here for anything else, and I kept telling him that, but it just-- SNIPER What? BARBACK He really got off on the fact I wasn’t a pro. Like maybe he wanted to make me do stuff. This was last week; he seemed kinda wild, like maybe he’d had too much coke? And I told him to get lost, again, and he just hauled off and gave me this little rabbit punch! Bam! Right here! SPY And? BARBACK And he just stood there! Like he wanted me to wreck him! But I’m not really that kinda guy; even told Big Red to go easy on him until the cab came. I think maybe they used to know each other... Anyway, that’s when he got eighty-sixed. Haven’t seen him since. SNIPER (handing him a card) You remember anything else, even if it doesn’t seem important, give us a call. BARBACK Okay. I gotta go; Ray’s outta olives. They let him hustle out with his jar of cocktail olives. SPY What do you think? SNIPER (shaking his head) He was always a little weird-- you know, back then. But nothing like this. SPY Let’s find the girl. Fade out.
[We interrupt this program for a very important retcon. Please replace the following dialogue: RED SPY Not recently. He has... not been welcome here, not for some time. A month, maybe more. There were... complaints. With this: RED SPY Not recently. He has... not been welcome here, not since last week. There were... complaints. Thank you.]
COMMERCIAL BREAK Fade in on SAXTON HALE, amid a pile of hats. HALE It has come to my attention that SOME PEOPLE have still not bought my hats! WELL? WHAT HAVE YOU GOT TO SAY FOR YOURSELVES, YOU HATLESS IRISHMEN? Cut to; The pile of hats remains, as does HALE, now calmly devouring a large steak. BIDWELL and REDDY address the camera. BIDWELL What Mr. Hale means to say, of course-- REDDY Is that Mann Co. now sells a remarkable assortment of hats for the stylish gentleman. Or, indeed, for the stylish lady. BIDWELL And at the rock bottom prices that Mr. Hale offers, it would be a terrible shame if anyone did not take the opportunity to buy one or more marvelous hats. REDDY Furthermore, to anyone passing by roughly ten minutes ago, we would like to be perfectly clear; Mr. Hale is a law-abiding citizen, and would never commit murder. The shouts you heard coming from the building are not to be taken as serious threats. HALE Yargh! Buy my hats! Or I'll-- Cut to; The pile of hats, BIDWELL, and REDDY all remain. SAXTON HALE is no longer on set. BIDWELL Please. Please, just... buy a hat. REDDY It will only take a moment of your time, and a very small amount of money, but the peace of mind you'll receive is worth far more than any hat that money can buy. BIDWELL (he looks nervously towards the door) Far, far more. BIDWELL and REDDY exchange awkward glances. REDDY exits the frame to turn the camera off.
They head back towards the lounge. When they reach the doors, SPY stops SNIPER. SPY (cont’d) You are sure you will be all right with this? It was quite the revelation for you... SNIPER He was always screwy. But yes, this is a bit much to take in. SPY (pulling out another cigarette, lighting it off his own) Here. SNIPER Thanks. SPY We’ve still got to figure out which girl he saw. Or maybe I should just set you up as bait, and we’ll ask every one who comes up to sniff you. SNIPER (who clearly does) I’ve got no idea what you’re on about... SPY “No ideaâ€? You dress that way for your health? Come on. SPY pushes on the door. Cut to; SCENE, INT. MAIN LOUNGE - NIGHT Door swings open, SPY and SNIPER re-enter the main lounge. They walk and talk, headed for the ‘VIP’ area where they expect to find the working girls. The camera follows over their shoulders in one long shot. SNIPER What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed? SPY Nothing, if you like waking up in a park, covered in blood, with your pants around your knees. SNIPER (shaking his head) Never blame the victim, mate. Wouldn’t matter if I was prancing around naked, with twenty-dollar bills stuck to me with honey. I’d still have the right to walk through dark alleys, safe and sound. SPY I think the public decency laws might have something to say about the nudity, but all right. Certainly I didn’t mean to say it would be <i>deserved</i>, just not wholly unexpected. SNIPER Fair enough. But there’s a thin line in this job, between expectation and blame. Just watch it, especially around the victims. Spy nods, taking this under advisement. They reach a curtained doorway marked “VIP Loungeâ€, and walk through. Beyond, a large, bored bouncer stands beside a glass booth with an elegant older woman inside. A long, thickly-carpeted hall stretches past them, with about a dozen doors, some with Do Not Disturb signs hanging from the handles. Cut to the hostess. She’s reading <i>Salem’s Lot</i>. The bouncer eyes them warily as they approach the booth. HOSTESS Can I help you gentlemen? They check the hallway for bystanders, then show their badges quickly. SNIPER Just have a few questions, if you have the time. HOSTESS Of course. We were informed you’d be coming. (to the Spy) Welcome back, sir. SNIPER You have a girl get hurt recently? Maybe in the past week or two? HOSTESS There was an incident, yes. SPY Could we speak to her directly? HOSTESS (to Spy) I believe you two are already acquainted. SPY (shaken) Is she working tonight? HOSTESS Yes. Hold on. The HOSTESS buzzes one of a double row of jewel-like buttons on her sideboard, and has a muffled conversation with someone on the other end of the intercom. She turns back to the detectives, and nods. HOSTESS Room 5. She’s available now. SPY turns on his heel and hurries down the hall, not running. SNIPER gives the HOSTESS a wave and follows. Cut to; INT. ROOM 5 - NIGHT A small, well-appointed bedroom that is at first glance luxurious, and at second glance intimidating--the four-poster bed is equipped with gold satin rope, maroon leather restraints, and a red velvet swing hanging from the ceiling. A rack displays color-coordinated riding crops, prods, canes, and irons. A similarly-draped woman detaches herself from the lush decor, nearly camouflaged in a rococo ensemble straight out of an 18th century erotic watercolor. In addition to the corset and farthingale, she has a red velvet domino mask, her hair piled high. She approaches SPY and offers her gloved hand, which he takes by way of greeting. GIRL How nice to see you again. And this is...? SPY My new partner. Are you hurt? GIRL (laughs) No! But I hear you want an official statement, so I suppose you can make yourselves comfortable. SNIPER I apologize for the interruption, miss. We heard there was some trouble recently. What can you tell us about the young man who got kicked out of here a few weeks ago? GIRL I know who you mean, although we jettison plenty of trash. Papa (emphasis on the second syllable, in the French style) runs a tight ship. SPY Yes, I’m sure he only has your best interests at heart. GIRL (swats him with her fan) We charge a 15% gratuity to smartasses. The kid we threw out--he was a weird one. SNIPER That’s what we hear. What happened? GIRL He seemed a little sweaty, but that’s nothing unusual. We have showers. It was after he got in here and started digging around in this shitty old athletic bag-- SPY He brought his own equipment? GIRL Ugh. He had this beat-up old baseball bat, you know, one of the aluminum ones. He had some other stuff, too--a pair of black sneakers, a headset, nothing I’d ever had a client bring in before. SPY Right. GIRL So I asked him what he wanted, exactly. That’s the routine--you work this shit out beforehand so no one gets sued or asphyxiated --but he wasn’t having it. Said he needed me to know what to do. SNIPER Uh huh. GIRL Which I get a lot, so I just did what I usually do. But this time it wasn’t working, and before I know it he’s wiggling out of the ropes and going for my goddamn throat. I was already holding the bat so I just whanged him right upside the head and yelled for Tony, and as they were carrying him out he kept shouting “Yes! Yes! That’s it! Do it again, do it again!†She pauses to let SPY light her cigarette. GIRL (exhaling a plume of smoke) But fuck that. Know what I mean? I don’t need that shit. SNIPER (standing) Thanks miss, we appreciate it. SPY You still have my number, cherie? GIRL Yep. I’ll call if I think of anything else, et cetera et cetera. Now get out, this corset is a goddamn boa constrictor. Cut to hallway, with door shutting firmly behind them. The two detectives stroll towards the exit. SNIPER Little young for you, isn’t she? SPY (archly) It is not even vaguely your business, but she is twenty six. A graduate student. And she is not “for†me, or any man. She is a student of Sappho, as well as Jung. SNIPER Really? How does that work, in this business? SPY Very well. It’s easier to keep your personal and professional lives separate when you have absolutely no interest in your clientele. SNIPER And “Papaâ€? SPY (bitterly) He is hardly a man, so, perhaps. The camera stops and they walk past it. Cut to; INT. MARGOULIN ROUGE BAR - NIGHT The detectives wait for the RED HEAVY to go on break. They have nothing to do but stand around the bar and watch the club. They take their beers to a plush booth and sit, settling in for a few hours’ wait. SFX music [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ldxn6aq2GCc] SPY What about that one? SNIPER Eh? SPY Pro or no? SNIPER Oh. Err...pro? SPY No. Try again. That one over there. SNIPER That is definitely a working girl. SPY That person is neither working, nor a girl. You are terrible at this. SNIPER Is this some playground pasttime from Vice? “Spot the hookerâ€? SPY Yes, but we don’t use that kind of vulgar terminology. SNIPER (changing the subject) You spend a lot of time here? People seem to know you. SPY A bit. Everyone gets to know the cop. So they can avoid him, mostly. SNIPER So why transfer? Sounds like a good fit. Slow push in on Spy during his monologue. SPY Conagher called me up, said he was assembling a team. The “Bad Liaisions Unit†(laughs); poor guy couldn’t bring himself to say ‘sex crimes’. I don’t know how it was for your side, afterwards. For us, it was like discovering a sort of dry rot had hollowed us out: we crumbled. Vice was where I had agency connections, so that’s where I went after South America. The others weren’t so lucky; I think most were unemployed until Conagher got them. And then I got his call, and... SNIPER You wanted to go home. SPY (surprised by the insight, but unwilling to open up quite that much, yet) I wouldn’t say that. But we’d been through something. I’m sure it’s the same for you-- I mean, they’re intolerable of course. But... SNIPER But at least they were there. SPY At least they were there. SNIPER holds out his beer, and SPY clinks his own against it. Cut to; INT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - THREE HOURS LATER Pan over the detectives, in the same booth, time clearly passed. Both are a little more slouched and bored, and there are one or two more bottles, but they are not intoxicated. Sniper checks his watch and scans the club. SNIPER He should be on his break. Cut to shot of the club as the bouncer, RED Heavy, comes in from his station out front. He stops to consult with a cocktail waitress, who points toward the camera (at the booth). Heavy walks over and slides in, Spy scooting over to Sniper’s side of the round table. Cut to; Shot of BIG RED filling a good half of the booth, with the implacable calm of his new profession. BIG RED Hello. SNIPER Good to see you again, mate. BIG RED (inscrutable) Is nice, yes. SPY (skipping to business, as personal appeals clearly aren’t working) You know I dealt fairly with the Rouge, Red. And we’re going to keep being fair. This isn’t about you or the club--we just need some help. SNIPER It’s about Scout. BIG RED He is in trouble? SNIPER Yeah. He got hurt. We need to find out why. Big Red smiles mirthlessly, a shifting glacier on the red velvet cushions. He leans one massive arm on the table and traces the whorl of the wood, watching his big fingers with his eyes cast down. BIG RED [Russian, unsubtitled] SPY [Russian.] BIG RED Okay. I don’t like telling his business, but maybe this time, is too important. He was here last night. Told him to go; he is not okay here. Too loud, too many drugs. SNIPER He left? BIG RED Da. SPY Did he say where? BIG RED Nyet--he is too angry to talk much. Calls me bad names. Finally, he goes. With little bat over shoulder, like drunk friend. The Heavy leans back into the cushions and sighs. Sniper and Spy have enough cop sense to let him stew. BIG RED He is strange boy. Sniper, you know. He used to play too rough--it was little bit how you say, spooky. Even back then. Now, out in city, maybe he looks for something like that. SNIPER Maybe. Red sighs and puts both palms flat on the table in a gesture of finality, then stands up from the booth. The detectives follow suit, shaking his hand. SPY (shaking hands) I’m sorry about your teammate, Red. BIG RED No, there is no team now. Maybe this is problem for Scout. They watch him lumber off. SPY Well...that is enough for one evening. Try and get a little sleep before tomorrow. I have a feeling this one won’t come easy or cheap. He companionably taps Sniper’s shoulder with his fist, and slips out. Sniper returns to his seat, toying with his empty beer bottle. He sighs heavily and leans forward, resting his arms on the table, head bowed. Cut to SNIPER’s POV, and a pair of Italian loafers walking into frame. Pan up the RED SPY. Cut to outside view of both. RED SPY I saw our maudlin red giant walking back to his post. Are you weary of your old stick, yet? SNIPER Naw, mate. Take a load off. RED SPY (indicating the club) You are surprised, by all of this. SNIPER None of this is what I would’ve expected. Do you really need to do this kind of thing? RED SPY None of us need to work. We do it to stay useful. Sane. To do what we’re good at. SNIPER You’re good at...this? RED SPY I’m good at being what people need me to be, when they need me to be it. It’s a relief, to be able to do my killing with kindness, now. SNIPER A different kind of mercenary. RED SPY Not so different as you might think. They are both intimate professions--as intimate as we allowed them to be. Maybe that’s Scout’s problem--he let it get too private. SNIPER I guess I never saw it that way. RED SPY Of course not; you were two miles away on the other end of a rifle scope. The only person you ever saw up close then, is your partner, now. Conagher’s no idiot. He knows you two are a big, buttery machine. SNIPER The term is “well-oiled machineâ€. RED SPY (smirking) You arch nemeses getting along, even without being allowed to kill each other? SNIPER It’s only been a day. But yeah, I suppose we are. And you might have a point about Scout. RED SPY I might. The RED SPY motions to someone, and drinks are quickly set down. SNIPER Perks to being the boss, huh? RED SPY Try not to abuse the privilege. SNIPER Cheers. RED SPY You’re too queasy about this to dig like a good cop, so I’m giving it to you for free: Scout, our Scout, is what you call a true masochist. He doesn’t care about the girls, or the boys. He just wants to feel something. It doesn’t matter who makes him feel it. SNIPER You mean it’s not a sex thing? RED SPY Yes and no--I’ll put it this way: Attacking your dominatrix because she isn’t hitting you hard enough isn’t how things are usually “done†in the fetish scene. God knows what exactly he wanted, and god knows who he got it from. Understand? SNIPER Not really. RED SPY Good. You’re catching on. RED Spy stands up to leave. Sniper catches his arm. SNIPER Wait. Who are we looking for? RED SPY I would tell you if I knew. We were never close, but I do worry about the <i>petit</i> idiot. About all of them. (beat) You’re going to have to get it out of him, somehow. (cont’d) RED SPY starts to walk away, then turns. RED SPY (cont’d) You could try policework; I hear that helps. Sniper, bested, makes a sour face, then a rueful one. He lifts his complimentary drink, revealing a cursive note on the coaster underneath: “You will need other things from me. 555-235-7654†SCENE, INT. SAN FRANCISCO GENERAL HOSPITAL - MORNING, DAY 2 SNIPER and SPY stride down the hallway towards the SCOUT’s room. As they approach, they meet up with JANE and TAVISH coming the other way. TAVISH stops SNIPER TAVISH What’s going on? SNIPER Scout’s been holding out. We’re going to talk to him. SPY You get anything useful? TAVISH He says the injuries weren’t from the boy’s bat. Wrong size and shape. Still working on what it was. SNIPER Thanks. SNIPER and SPY move past them and into SCOUT’s room. JANE Funny thing, I know I’ve seen those bruises before. TAVISH Oh, aye? Know where? A sudden look of understanding washes over JANE’s face. He grabs TAVISH by the shoulder. JANE I think I just busted this case wide open, pal. I think I just busted this case wide open with a genuine Mann Co. Entrenching Tool. TAVISH’ eye widens. He slaps JANE on the arm. TAVISH Let’s get down to the station then. Talk to the doc, get some uniforms canvassing. Cut to Spy and Sniper entering Scout’s room, stepping into frame together, dark against the bright hospital walls. The boy is visible between them on the bed, finishing his tray of breakfast. SCOUT (nervously) Hey...guys. Um...what’s up? Cut to the detectives’ faces, both serious. SNIPER We need to talk. SCOUT I already told you everything. SNIPER Not everything. Spy tosses the matchbook onto the bed. Cut to a shot of it landing on the blanket. Cut to Scout’s face, looking up from the matchbook to them. He knows they know something, but isn’t sure what. Cut to; Slow push in on Spy’s face through the following lines. SPY (lighting a cigarette under a NO SMOKING sign) So the masochist says to the sadist, “Hit me, hit me!†And the sadist replies, “No.†Spy squints, closing his lighter with a click. Dramatic musical sting; fade to black. EXECUTIVE PRODUCER Dicks Everywhere END OF PART I
Good LORD I love this. I am on the edge of my seat! I was totally going to do useful things this morning but that has gone out the window now. And I have no regrets. New favourite fic? new favourite fic.
Oh clifthanger! This is amazing here, I was a bit wary of the formatting at first, then I began to love it!
This is amazing. I am at the edge of my seat, occasionally giving small squeals of joy. Continue, for all that is holy, continue.
This was like the best unexpected gift ever. I think the commercials are what really seals the deal but I also love how it didn't end up as neat and tidy as expected. The whole thing about the brothel club and how it was unraveled was perfect. And that Jane figured it out towards the end because he eventually recognized the injuries? Superb. You two are truly Olympians of fanfiction! Incidentally, captcha seems to be worried about those monkeys.
(SNIPER) Wouldn’t matter if I was prancing around naked, with twenty-dollar bills stuck to me with honey. Well, there's MY mental image for the day. captcha: FISH Seems appropriate - the calendar year's closer to Barney Miller than CSI.
Please never regret anything ever
Thanks for the encouragement, and here's the second 'epsiode': LAW & ORDER: BLU EPISODE 0: PILOT PART II of II by Anne the Cat Detective (The Dustbowl Horror; Disconnect; Howl, Dog; Entire Team Is Ladies) & Toxo (SNUFF) SCENE, INT. SAN FRANCISCO GENERAL HOSPITAL - MORNING, DAY 2 SCOUT’s hospital room. SNIPER stands impassively in the doorway, arms folded. SPY is leaning against the wall, taking a drag from his cigarette. SCOUT is in the bed, looking frantically between the two and starting to sweat. SCOUT Look, so I been to a, a club. Okay, so I was flying kinda high when I got jumped and that’s why I don’t remember too much. I don’t know what you want me to say here, guys... SNIPER The truth’d be a nice change. SPY Oh, ‘been to a club’. That is rich.You tried to pay a prostitute to beat you with your own bat. And when she didn’t hit you hard enough, you lost control. How many of your old comrades know about your new hobbies? SCOUT Just ‘cause I wanted her to smack me around a little doesn’t mean I wanted to end up in the hospital! Maybe you oughta remember who the victim is here, pal! SNIPER (flippant) You know, I’m not sure I can anymore. SPY We can’t help you, or anyone you’ve gotten mixed up with, until you tell us what we need to know. SCOUT Fuck you! You never liked me! You always used to go after me first; you had it out for me then and you still do! Snipes, man, you gotta believe me... You gotta! The SNIPER moves inside the room, shutting the door behind him. SCOUT’s protestations are loud enough to attract attention, which they don’t need. His gaze is unreadable behind his black aviators. SNIPER (gently) Just give me a reason to, sporto. Fade to black. Opening credits. http://tf2chan.net/fanart/src/132161415360.jpg
Camera fades in on a sunny park, where a group of brawny mustachioed men are playing volleyball and frisbee in the background, as an even brawnier and more mustachioed man strolls along, keeping pace with the camera as it moves past the scene. MAN G’day! My name is Rick, and I’m a second-generation Aussie-American. But you’d never know I wasn’t a fresh arrival to America’s shores, and I’ll let you in on my little secret why. (cont’d) He pulls out a tube with a cartoon moustache on the label. MAN (cont’d) Mann Co’s Stache-inna-Tube! Now I’m not gonna lie to ya, this stuff’ll burn like the dickens, and that’s if you’re not allergic to it! But if you absolutely, positively must have a moustache within the hour, well, no other company does it better. (he laughs) SAXTON HALE somersaults into frame, leaps to his feet, and punches one of the frisbee players. HALE Get a job, hippie, before I give you one-- ON THE END OF MY SIZE 13S! Ha! My friend Rick here is right. In fact, no other company does it at all! Only Mann Co. is committed to giving YOU the quality moustache YOU deserve! MAN Mr. Hale, I don’t think that man’s a hippie, I think ya hired him for your commercial. HALE YOU’RE NEXT, RICK! START RUNNING! (to the camera) You see, Stache-inna-Tube doesn’t just give you a luxurious lip-warming, lady-tickling, crocodile-frightening moustache, it gives you the power of a true Australian. So even though our friend Rick was born a puny little American, when he runs for his life, it’s with the strength and speed of a man from Canberra. SAXTON HALE poses for the camera, holding up the Stache-inna-Tube and winking. SFX: Digeridoo blast [ http://www.soundsnap.com/node/104621 ]. Once the digeridoo has quieted, he drops the tube and takes off at a run, screaming in inarticulate fury.
We started a companion thread in /fanart/: http://tf2chan.net/fanart/res/5586.html
SCENE, EXT. STREET OUTSIDE POLICE STATION - MORNING, DAY 2 JANE and TAVISH are walking from where they’ve parked their car up the street, towards the front door of the station, talking excitedly over each other. TAVISH whales JANE on the back with a congratulatory slap that would flatten a lesser man. TAVISH That’s me boyo! JANE I just kept thinking, you know? The whole time you were talking to him... TAVISH Medic’s going to go mad once you tell him. Should’ve recognized it himself. JANE It won’t be too hard to track down. I know every military surplus store in the area. Mann Co’s out of the weapons game; if the perp got that shovel anywhere, it’d be from military surplus. TAVISH Aye, aye, unless-- JANE Unless... They reach the door. TAVISH pulls it open. Cut to; SCENE, INT. POLICE STATION - MORNING, DAY 2 TAVISH and JANE plow right into the station, passing by the reception desk and heading towards the camera. TAVISH I haven’t seen hide nor hair of RED’s Soldier since the war ended... JANE The maniac with the severed head collection? TAVISH Don’t pretend you weren’t jealous. JANE I was not jealous of that lunatic’s sick trophy fence, and I resent the implication. TAVISH Oh aye, whatever you say. JANE (thoughtful) Yeah, he could be good for it. Crazy old fraud... They round the corner into the bullpen, the camera still keeping pace ahead of them. The BLU SCOUT and HEAVY are sitting at two of the desks, each with a sandwich. BLU SCOUT Yo, what’s goin’ on? JANE Police work, rookie! TAVISH Made a bit of a breakthrough. Don’t suppose you know where the Captain is? Wide shot of the whole bustling office. HEAVY CAPTAIN! The rest of the people in the office startle, coffee is spilled, papers fly, phones are dropped.  A chorus of grumbles follow; this is clearly not an unusual event. TAVISH Or you could do that... CONAGHER enters from his office, shaking his head. CONAGHER Dang it, Detective, I’m right through that door, and it ain’t exactly soundproof. Now what’s the hubbub, fellas? TAVISH claps JANE on the back, grinning. TAVISH Tell him. JANE We know what the weapon was. Boy had his ass served up on a platter with a Mann Co. Entrenching Tool. I oughta know, I’ve done it myself a hundred times. You never forget that tell-tale hexagonal contusion! Craftsmanship! CONAGHER Jane, I want you looking into any military surplus stores in the area, see if they’ve moved any shovels in the past couple months. JANE puffs out his chest proudly. JANE I was prepared to do exactly that, Captain. CONAGHER Good. Tavish-- oh, heck... You’re thinking this was RED’s Soldier? With Sniper out, you’re the only ol’ RED I’ve got on hand to ask... HEAVY This cannot be right. They were on team together. SCOUT What, you never wanted t’ whang your teammates with a shovel? HEAVY Maybe one teammate... CONAGHER We’ve got to look at everything. Tavish? Thoughts? TAVISH It’s been a while. I wouldn’t know where either of them stood... I’ll see if I can’t track him down, find out what happened. CONAGHER No, you stick with Jane. Once Sniper gets back, I’ll send him out with Spy. Don’t want anybody tryin’ to track down a suspect on his lonesome. Scout, BLU SCOUT (mouth full) Yeah? CONAGHER Head back down to the scene. Update the uniforms, lend a hand if they’re short on manpower. Heavy, HEAVY You want I should go with little partner? CONAGHER No, he’ll be fine. We’ve got officers where he’s headed. But you might as well let the Medic know he can quit poring over all them photos of bruises. I mean, if he wants. HEAVY (he stands, and salutes with his sandwich) Spasibo. We tell Doktor right away.  Come, Sandvich... Cut to CONAGHER standing in the door of his office, hands on his belt loops, slow pull back as his detectives scatter on their disparate missions. SFX: DOINK DOINK SCENE, INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - SAME MORNING, DAY 2 Cut back to the detectives in SCOUT’s room.  The door opens immediately; it’s a NURSE. NURSE Detectives?  You have a phone call. SNIPER
Thanks. The NURSE smiles at SCOUT and goes to take his tray and make him comfortable.  SPY and SNIPER head into the hallway.  Cut to; SPY and SNIPER approach the hospital front desk.  The receptionist hands SPY a telephone receiver. SPY SVU.  Yes.  That makes sense. Got it.  We’re on it. He hands the phone back to the receptionist smoothly, who smiles flirtatiously at him.  The detectives start back towards the hallway, away from the busy desk to get some privacy.  They stop against a quiet wall; SPY leans back, SNIPER faces him. SNIPER What’s the word? SPY That was Medic.  He says they’re liking a shovel for the assault weapon. SNIPER A shovel? SPY And not just any shovel. SNIPER Don’t say it. SPY & SNIPER (simultaneously) Mann Co. Genuine Entrenching Tool. SNIPER Son of a bitch. SPY Leave it to me; hunting REDs always was my purview. SNIPER snorts ruefully.  SPY lands a hand on SNIPER’s shoulder and they turn toward the camera, headed back to SCOUT’s room. Cut to; INT. SCOUT’S HOSPITAL ROOM - SAME MORNING, DAY 2 Push in on the opening door, framing both lanky detectives. SNIPER We know about Soldier. SPY We’re about to find out a lot more. And we’d rather hear it from you, petit. Cut to SCOUT on his pillows.  He turns his head to the side, pointedly shutting them out.  He looks on the verge of tears.  Shot of SNIPER and SPY, who are sympathetic, but cool. SNIPER You know, you don’t have to protect him... SPY (gently) We’re trying to help you. Cut back to SCOUT, who doesn’t move.  Cut to the doorway, as both detectives reluctantly leave the young man to his hurt. INT. POLICE STATION - DAY 2 SPY and SNIPER flop into their respective desk chairs, their desks facing each other.  A typewriter and a phone are on each, along with a lamp and assorted personal effects.  The Captain approaches. CONAGHER Well? SPY (exasperated) He still won’t talk to us. SNIPER We pressed him on the shovel--nothing. CONAGHER You like Soldier for this? SNIPER Jesus.  Maybe.  I dunno. He’s the only one crazy enough to still be hauling around a Mann Co. Those things explode. There was a recall. SPY A recall? SNIPER Yeah, Mann Co. rounded up every one of ‘em they could find; gave full refunds, everything. SPY (leans forward) So they...mailed out letters? How’d they find the buyers? SNIPER (realization dawning) Well, they were all warrantied. Australian craftsmanship, as Solly always s... Oh my god.  He must have filled out his registration card! The detectives leap to their feet and sprint out of the office, their desk chairs spinning. Cut to; SCENE, INT. MILITARY SURPLUS STORE - DAY 2 JANE and TAVISH walk down one aisle, towards the door, JANE pausing frequently to inspect the shelves. TAVISH No good, then? JANE Idiot tried to show me buyers for the new shovels. TAVISH What, the ones that don’t burst into flames? JANE Yes, those! There’s a subtle difference in the blade; the kind of thing that’s obvious to a real connoisseur! It had to be one of the old ones, and according to this joker, nobody will sell them! They reach the door, and TAVISH holds it open. TAVISH So it’s got to be someone who’s had theirs awhile. Follow TAVISH and JANE out and into; EXT. STREET - DAY 2 JANE Which means we’re probably looking at your old teammate. He may be a nutcase, but if he’s anything like the man he so desperately tried to be, back in the war, he’ll be holding onto that thing. Not abandoning it like those wussies with their ‘class action lawsuit’. TAVISH Well, I wouldn’t worry, then. Sniper’s running him down, isn’t he? INT. MANN CO. OFFICES LOBBY - DAY 2 The San Francisco offices of Mann Co. are sleek, bright, and modern. There is a beautiful woman with a truly impressive moustache sitting behind the front desk, half-heartedly manning the telephones. SNIPER and SPY stride in, approaching the desk and setting their badges down for her perusal. SNIPER is wearing his old bush hat.  She stops pretending to pay attention to the phones and smiles up at them. RECEPTIONIST How can I help you gentlemen? SNIPER We’re, uh... (he exchanges glances with the SPY--they both know it’s a long shot) We were hoping you might have some files that could help us on a case. RECEPTIONIST (eyeing SNIPER’s hat) And are you working hat crimes? SNIPER No ma’am, this’d be from the old weapons manufacturing days. We need to track down an old customer of yours, and we were hoping you’d have his registration stored someplace. RECEPTIONIST (calling over her shoulder) Oi, Vicky, come and get a load of this, then! A second woman, also beautiful, also mustachioed, enters. VICKY What? RECEPTIONIST Tell Vicky what you’re looking for. SNIPER We need any information you might have for an old customer, from when Mann Co. sold weapons. Both women laugh, then whisper between themselves. SNIPER looks down, dejected. SPY Merci, ladies. And chin up, eh? Perhaps the mange will clear up on its own. Spy delivers a gorgeous smile.  Both women look stricken, their hands going instantly to their moustaches.  One takes out her compact mirror. SNIPER (picking up his badge) G’day. He makes for the door. SPY retrieves his own badge, smiling over his shoulder at the silent women, before following the SNIPER out to the car. Follow SPY into; SCENE, EXT. STREET - DAY 2 The SNIPER paces a few steps next to his car, parked outside the Mann Co. office. He stops, blows out a big lungful of air, and takes his hat off, raking a hand through his hair. He starts when SPY touches his shoulder. SNIPER Figured the hat might help. Turns out I’m a goddamn idiot. SPY Courage, mon ami. It may take a little more legwork, but we will find him. Unless... it’s something else? SNIPER It’s nothing. I’m used to it. SPY One of those statements is a lie. But, all right. You do not have to tell me. Come on, I owe you a meal. It so happens a friend of mine recommended this little restaurant; I think you’ll like it. SNIPER smiles--it is not in full force, but it is genuine. He nods and opens his car door. Cut to; INT. CHINESE RESTAURANT - DAY 2 The same as before, but earlier in the day, with a lunch crowd instead of an early dinner crowd. SNIPER’s face is buried in his menu, SPY’s menu down on the table as he peruses it. SPY Are we incognito? SNIPER Don’t be stupid. SPY (hooking one finger over the top of the menu and pulling it down) Then what is the matter? SNIPER Nothing. SPY Oh, please. At least tell me it is none of my business; don’t insult us both by pretending it is ‘nothing’. SNIPER Fine. It’s none of your business. SPY Dim sum? SNIPER Nah. Probably get... dunno. SPY
I’ve been told their egg foo yong is to die for... SNIPER (unsmiling) Probably get the mushu pork this time. SPY Do you want tea? Beat.  SNIPER maintains the menu in front of the lower half of his face, pretending to read it.  Finally he speaks. SNIPER So...aren’t Frenchmen supposed to have little pencil moustaches? SPY (amused) We are “supposed†to cultivate whatever facial hair compliments our individual bone structure, color palette, and of course, the fashion season. We would not be caught dead with a white moustache after La Fête du Travail, of course. It is grounds for deportation. SNIPER Forget it. It’s stupid. SPY (teasing) Oh, absolutely. Having a moustache would not improve you at all. You would spend all your time grooming it. Having little conversations with it. You would quickly become insufferable, like Heavy and Detective Sandvich. (cont’d) SNIPER, still hovering behind his menu, stares at the SPY. SPY (cont’d) You would balloon up to 160 kilos of hair and muscle. You would purchase a pallet of tiny denim shorts. (cont’d) Beat. SPY (cont’d) (sighing) Ugh, you are incorrigible.  You have forced my hand. Fine: you look far better without the moustache, yes? (cont’d) Cut back to SNIPER, who hasn’t moved.  Cut to SPY, looking still amused, but slightly discomfited. SPY (cont’d) You are awful, just awful. Listen, it’s very simple: A moustache would interfere with your cesarean bone structure.  Alright? Besides, I am sick of moustaches on Ozmen. It would be as if I wore a beret. SNIPER (smiling against his will, the menu finally dipping) You’re an ass. Why do I even talk to you? SPY Because you’re my partner. And I’m buying you lunch. Shot of the both of them at the table as the waitress approaches.  Slow pull out; fade to black.  Music: [ http://tindeck.com/listen/vnlc ]
Still shot after still shot of SAXTON HALE, many in grainy black and white, as he punches hippies, wrestles wild animals, and kisses babies, finally fading back into the trophy-filled office. HALE Any questions? No? Good. A vote for Hale is a vote for me, SAXTON HAAALE!
SCENE, INT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - DAY 2 In the club’s entryway, SPY again sitting on the padded velvet bench, SNIPER again on his feet, hat in his hands. RED SPY enters, beckoning to them, and they follow him into his office. RED SPY Back again so soon, gentlemen? SNIPER You’ve kept track of a few of our old teammates, right? RED SPY (amused) Oh, a few. SNIPER The Soldier? The RED SPY frowns--not the same frown as the Scout had elicited on their first visit, it is something slightly sadder. RED SPY So he is mixed up in all of this? Maybe it should not surprise me. The man is living far beneath his means, I doubt the conditions have improved his already-shaky mental health. RED SPY deftly flips through a Rolodex, pausing to write something on a notepad.  He rips it out and hands it to SNIPER. RED SPY Last known address.  It may still be good. SNIPER You have an address? SPY Old habits die hard. We should’ve come here first. RED SPY Quite. It’s nothing sinister-- I just...have concerns. Short push on RED Spy’s face.  Cut to; EXT. MARGOULIN ROUGE - DAY 2 The detectives walk out the club doors onto the street, Sniper folding the address into a pocket.  They walk towards the car. SPY Somehow I do not think we can just walk up and knock. SNIPER He’s gonna spook easily, after something like this. Hell, he always spooked easily. Let’s play it safe. They walk past the camera.  Fade to black. SFX: doink doink SCENE, EXT. RED SOLDIER’S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY 3 There are few people out on the sidewalk, and the SNIPER is parked across the street. Cut to; SCENE, INT. SNIPER’S CAR - DAY 3 SNIPER and SPY are sitting in the front, SNIPER with a pair of binoculars, SPY with a camera. SPY (leaning over the SNIPER to look out the driver’s side window) Come on... come on... SNIPER Do you bleeding marinate in your cologne? Geroff. SPY (sitting back, huffy) It is Dior.  And you don’t hear me complaining about the way you smell. SNIPER I don’t smell like anything. When the SPY peers through the window again, the SNIPER surreptitiously sniffs his own shirt, then nods, satisfied. SPY
Not yet. But the empty jars in the backseat do not bode well for the continued pleasantness of this automobile. SNIPER It’s a stakeout. What do you expect? I suppose you’re just gonna go knock on the door and ask to use the neighbour’s loo? SPY (primly) I’ll wait. SNIPER We don’t know if he’s even coming back to this place tonight. SPY I’ll wait. SNIPER Oh, mister ‘I’m so much better than you on account of I never piss in a jar’. Bet you didn’t do too many long stakeouts back in Vice. SPY Not too many, no. I did some undercover work, I worked on a few sting operations. I never had to piss in an automobile, in front of another cop. SNIPER Really?  Not even on your weirder undercovers? SPY Costs extra. SNIPER I’m not asking you to watch me do it. I’m saying by the time we get through with this, I’ll bet you I’m the more comfortable, of the two of us. SPY It has become obvious to me that our definitions of ‘comfortable’ are vastly different. SPY crosses his arms and settles back into the passenger’s seat. SNIPER hunches over, watching through the window. Fade to; SCENE, INT. SNIPER’S CAR - DAY 3 Some time has passed. SPY is in the driver’s seat, using the binoculars. There is an ashtray on the dashboard, with two of the SPY’s gold cigarette butts, and after taking a last long drag off the one in his mouth, he drops it in to join them. There is also half of a plain white cigarette, not yet down to the filter. SNIPER is in the back seat, snoring, his hat over his face. SPY glances back at his partner with a tiny smile, then returns to scanning the street. Fade to; SCENE, INT. SNIPER’S CAR - SAME NIGHT, DAY 3 The ashtray is a little fuller, and SNIPER is behind the wheel with the binoculars again, the SPY dozing in the passenger’s seat. The SNIPER glances back to him a couple of times, slightly nervous, before leaning over. Beat. SNIPER (in a whisper) Spy? Still sleeping? The SPY snorts and shifts slightly, but that’s the only answer there is. SNIPER returns to his own side of the car, looking relieved. Tight shot on SNIPER. SFX: zipper SPY (smirking, eyes still closed) Filthy bushman... SNIPER (scrambling) Why the hell didn’t you say something when I asked you if you were still sleeping, then? SPY Oh, come on. Like I would sleep through you whispering in my ear. All right, all right. I’m going to go take a walk. Do you need anything? SNIPER Coffee. SPY You’ve already been reduced to pissing in a jar, and you need coffee? SNIPER Yeah. Little caffeine wouldn’t go amiss. Who knows when we’ll actually see him... The SPY opens his car door, climbing out, but he stops, leaning back into the car. SPY Hey... SNIPER (irritated) What? SPY If he doesn’t come quietly, are you prepared to throw that at him? SNIPER Aw, go on. SCENE, INT. SNIPER’S CAR - DAY 3, NIGHT SNIPER is sitting in the driver’s seat, twisted around so that he can keep an eye on the apartment building across the way, binoculars in hand. He scans the lit windows, and on seeing nothing of interest, goes back to watching the front entrance. The passenger’s side door opens, and the SPY slides in, carrying a Thermos. SNIPER Took you long enough. SPY You were the one who ‘needed’ coffee. Nothing’s open; I had to go back to the station. SNIPER Pour me some? SPY Of course. (cont’d) SPY twists the Thermos open deftly, and pours some out, but he holds onto the cap a moment. SPY I really do feel I should ask you if your hands are clean. SNIPER Yes. Now give it here. SPY hands it over, smirking. SNIPER cups it in both hands a moment and breathes in. SPY Pauvre bebe. You look exhausted. SNIPER Yeah, and how come you don’t? This... (he takes a sip) This is really bleedin’ good... You got this at the station? SPY That is some of the best coffee you can get in this country, for love or money. I keep it in my desk, the drawer that locks. No one ever sees me get it out. I make that coffee in secret, with a press, when I can’t stand the stuff in the break room any longer. SNIPER (smirking back at him) You know the lock on your desk drawer and the lock on my desk drawer are probably the same, right? SPY (twisting half around, leaning casually against the seat) I can afford to share with one man. Just don’t let any of the others find out about this, okay? SNIPER Deal. INT. STATION - DAY 4 TAVISH and JANE are at their desks. JANE Spy and Sniper are on a what? TAVISH They’re staking out his flat. JANE He’s not going to go back there. If he did it, he has to know we’re onto him, and he has to know we’ll track him down. He’ll have someplace else, a bunker or something. That’s opsec basics! TAVISH So you’re saying it’s hopeless? JANE No, I’m saying they won’t catch him that way. TAVISH And to catch him at all, you’ve got to think like him. JANE (scowling) Him and me are nothing alike. TAVISH Oh, all right. But you must have some sort of idea. Just as an experienced cop now, mind. JANE If he’s going to ground, he’ll need supplies. And mister, there is just one place in town where a man can buy a whole pallet of canned soup for low, low wholesale prices. TAVISH Then let’s roll, partner. They stand, grabbing for their coats and hats. Cut to; EXT. STREET - DAY 4 A sleek blue Ford Torino screams down the street, flying as it hits a hill. INT. TAVISH’ CAR - DAY 4 JANE is in the passenger’s seat, scrambling to hold onto anything he can. TAVISH is behind the wheel, grinning maniacally. TAVISH LET’S GET ‘IM, BOYO! JANE Hey, buddy... maybe I should drive. Just... for the depth perception. TAVISH Not a chance! Everything inside the Torino is jostled wildly. TAVISH laughs, JANE just grits his teeth. JANE If you hit a pedestrian, then I am driving, and that is final. TAVISH Oh, I’m not going to hit anyone. I’m bloody sober, aren’t I? JANE Depth perception! Depth perception! Depth perception! The two are jostled once more. TAVISH Oh, lighten up, laddie! They corner a sharp turn. (something hitting the windshield?) Cut to; EXT. WAREHOUSE STORE PARKING LOT - DAY 4 TAVISH has parked haphazardly in front of the store. Right in front of the store. He hops out of the car, JANE climbs shakily from the passenger’s side. JANE You sure we can park here? TAVISH reaches into the car, takes out the cherry that he had not bothered to pop onto the roof while driving, and sets it out. TAVISH There. Now they know we’re the cops. JANE Great. We’ll pick up his scent inside. If he hasn’t been here already, he’ll show up. They head inside. Cut to; INT. SNIPER’S CAR - DAY 4 The Thermos is empty, the ashtray is full, and there are two jars on the dashboard. SPY eyes them and shudders with visible distaste, before crawling over SNIPER to take the binoculars again. SNIPER Seriously, d’you mind? SPY I do not mind at all. Even if you are rather bony. Hold still. SNIPER (shoving the SPY) Move your bleedin’ arse. If you need to watch the window so badly, get in the back. Guess you don’t trust me to keep an eye on the place? SPY Which one of us is the surveillance expert? SNIPER That’s it, off. (cont’d) SNIPER manages to push the SPY back into the passenger’s seat before climbing out of the car. SNIPER You want to keep watch? It’s yours. Have fun. SPY Where do you think you’re going? SNIPER (still annoyed) Breakfast. What do you want? SPY Bring me back whatever looks good... merci, mon ami. SNIPER Don’t mention it! SNIPER slams the car door and stalks off down the street as SPY watches him through the window. Once he’s out of sight, SPY picks up the binoculars, slides over into the driver’s seat, and watches the building. INT. WAREHOUSE STORE - DAY 4 TAVISH and JANE head down the center of the store, scanning the aisles to either side. JANE spots the RED SOLDIER. JANE Check your 4 o’clock. TAVISH Aye, I see him. I’ll go around the other side... TAVISH circles around, going down the next aisle over to block the RED SOLDIER’S exit, as JANE works his way closer slowly. Once they each have one end of the aisle covered, their quarry looks up as if he has caught their scent.  For a moment, it looks like he’s about to run, but he stops, and pulls himself upright.  He’s battered around the face, with a black eye and a split lip.  He salutes Jane smartly. RED SOLDIER
Nice work, sir.  I’ll go quietly. JANE Good man. TAVISH Let’s roll. INT. POLICE STATION - DAY 4 Spy and Sniper walk into the station house looking like warmed-over garbage.  Both are clutching coffee and greasy paper bags, wolfing down breakfast, both pointedly not speaking to each other.  Sniper’s hair is a mess and he’s wearing his sunglasses; Spy’s suit is rumpled, and he’s trying to smoke while eating a burrito and drinking coffee at the same time. They slump into their respective chairs as the captain strolls up. CONAGHER You two look like stuff I used to pick outta my horse’s hooves. SNIPER (acidly) So I’m told. But at least I don’t smell like a cathouse bidet. SPY (gritting his teeth) I do not smell like a cathouse bidet. SNIPER You would know. CONAGHER (interrupting) Tavish and Jane are bringing in our man. You smelly fellas get outta here and clean up. They stand up without another word and head out, passing Jane, Tavish, and their suspect on the way in.  Slo mo as Sniper and Soldier pass each other, making brief eye contact.  Fade to black.  SFX: doink doink
A small diner, with HEAVY taking up most of a booth, sandwich in hand. HEAVY Hello. Welcome to The Just Dessert. This is only name-- they have more than desserts here. This is where they make Sandvich. (cont’d) Heavy reaches below the table, pulling out Sandvich HEAVY (cont’d) This is Sandvich. Made from meat, and also ingredients. Sandvich is then lovingly wrapped in bread. Is good fuel for fighting cowards, is good fuel for fighting crime. Extreme close up on Sandvich. (musical sting: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yPj2-RU-Ug8 )(excuse the long intro)
FADE IN: INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 4 JANE is leaning over the table, hands planted firmly. RED SOLDIER is sitting, hands clenched in his lap, stone silent, staring dead ahead, at attention. TAVISH is leaning against the mirror. TAVISH (to RED Soldier, as he puts a hand on Jane’s shoulder) We’ll just let you think about it. JANE and TAVISH exit. CONAGHER meets them in the hallway. CONAGHER Nothing, huh? JANE It’s like talking to a brick wall. TAVISH Worse. If it was a brick wall, we could use dynamite. CONAGHER Well it was worth a shot, but I guess we could send in ‘big cop’. JANE We already tried Bad Cop. CONAGHER I said Big Cop. CONAGHER heads for the bullpen, JANE and TAVISH follow along in his wake. INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 4 HEAVY is taking up his half of the room, arms crossed, sandwich in one hand. RED SOLDIER sits impassively. It looks as though he has not moved since the others left him there. Cut to; Cut to; INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 4 HEAVY You surrendered. Is not big surprise. Why now is little man not talking? You have not asked for lawyer. Just ask for lawyer, little man. I will bring one. Is better to have nice, polite interview with Heavy. Is not so good to have interrogation from Sandvich... He is bit of loose cannon, da? I would never hurt suspect, but Sandvich... Maybe he go a little overboard. Maybe I not hold him back this time. RED SOLDIER says nothing. Slow pan around Heavy, then a pull back to the other side of the mirror, where CONAGHER monitors the interview, BLU SCOUT at his shoulder. JANE and TAVISH lean against the back wall. JANE Yeah, well... When Heavy doesn’t crack him, maybe he’ll be ready to talk to us. TAVISH What makes you think Heavy won’t crack him? JANE I wouldn’t crack. TAVISH nods. Fade to black.  SFX: doink doink INT. SNIPER’S APARTMENT - DAY 4 SNIPER leans on his bathroom sink, staring himself down in the mirror. He sighs heavily and starts stripping, turning on the shower and waiting for the water to run hot. He unbuckles his belt, and is interrupted by a sound from down the hallway. SFX: Telephone ringing SNIPER I’m coming, dammit. And I don’t want any... (cont’d) He strides into the kitchenette, picking up the phone. SNIPER (cont’d) I don’t want to subscribe to anything. Oh! Mum! Hi. Sorry. Mum, d’you... Do you know what time it is in California? Oh. You do know what time it is. Sorry. Stakeout. Yeah, okay. I’ll call you back later. Say hello to dad for me. Yeah, you too. Bye. SNIPER hangs up and trudges back down the hall to the bathroom. He disappears through the door, the trousers fly out towards the open bedroom door opposite. SFX: Telephone ring. SNIPER storms back into the kitchenette in his underwear, takes the phone off the hook, slams it down on the counter, and leaves it there. He goes back to his shower, camera does a slow push in on the receiver. SPY (OS) Sniper? Hello? I, uh, I left my cigarette case in your car, and--are you there? There is a pause.  Then a sigh. SPY (OS) Is this because I was an ass earlier? I am sorry about that.  I do hope you’re you’re still picking me up in a couple of hours; I can wait that long. Hello? I apologize, I just want my cigarettes back. Sniper? Cut to; INT. SPY’S BEDROOM - DAY 4 SPY is sitting on the edge of his bed, suit jacket off and tie undone, telephone in hand. His posture is slumped, fatigue showing, and he places the receiver against his shoulder, holding it in place with his head so that he can strip out of his shirt. SPY Bebe? He hangs up. Cut to Sniper’s receiver, which clicks. Fade out. SCENE, INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 4 CONAGER, TAVISH, JANE, and BLU SCOUT monitoring HEAVY in the room with RED SOLDIER. BLU SCOUT C’mon, put me in, Cap! CONAGHER Son, you’re fresh off of walking the beat. You really think you can handle this? BLU SCOUT You know I can! Besides, my partner’s in there, right? So I should be, y’know, backing him up. CONAGHER (sighing heavily) Fine. Go ahead on in, but this is Heavy’s interview. You’re just there to watch him while you learn the ropes. BLU SCOUT You got it. He races out the door, camera following him as he skids to a halt right outside the interview room. He opens the door and swaggers in coolly, taking a seat next to HEAVY and giving the RED SOLDIER an unimpressed once-over. The RED SOLDIER looks at him, wide-eyed, there is a beat, and he cracks, leaning across the table with his hands up in supplication, choking back on tears. RED SOLDIER S-Scout?  Scout?  Oh my god, you look just like him.  Is he okay? That poor boy, just tell me if he’s okay! BLU SCOUT (scooting back in his chair) What the friggin’ hell, man? RED SOLDIER I-- I called for an ambulance from the payphone, I didn’t know... BLU SCOUT Hold up, you called the ambulance? RED SOLDIER I didn’t know what else to do. I... I didn’t know what else to do! We ran into each other in the park, me and the boy, and... I just hadn’t seen any of the guys in so long! Hadn’t seen anyone since I got back from Vietnam. It-- It was nice... for a little while. He was happy to see me and I was-- We talked about the good old days, and the war, and-- we talked about the good old days. He said we oughta play around a little, for old times’ sake. We used to spar. Boy needed training up, back at the start of it. We did that a lot, training. BLU SCOUT (still not comfortable) Okay... HEAVY (taking a big bite of the sandwich) Then what happens? RED SOLDIER (still directed solely at the BLU Scout) Just horsing around, we were just supposed to be horsing around... a coupla guys who were in a war together, just horsing around, and maybe he’d had a couple, I don’t know. I guess I had. I had one or two. Wasn’t even tipsy, but gosh, you know he’s still a skinny guy. I figured he wasn’t holding his liquor so good. (cont’d) HEAVY and BLU SCOUT exchange glances.  Soldier seems caught up in his own story, spending more time looking at his hands and the table than at them.  They let him talk. RED SOLDIER He kept wanting to... I don’t know. Hell if I know. Of course I hit him, we were sparring! He kept telling me to. Well hell, he was doing pretty well even if he was drunk, so I held back a little less on him and he was fine, we were having a good time until-- He stops and breaks eye contact, shutting down. HEAVY Until what? RED SOLDIER doesn’t answer. HEAVY prods BLU SCOUT gently. BLU SCOUT (mouthing silently) Me? (cont’d) HEAVY nods. BLU SCOUT (cont’d) So what happened? RED SOLDIER He-- he had his-- his bat with him. Wasn’t using it, we were just sparring. Mean, I don’t go anywhere without my shovel, so, so it wasn’t so strange, only-- only then... I don’t know what he even meant by it! He wasn’t himself and if I coulda stopped him any other way--! BLU SCOUT We know. You had to put him in his place. He was always kind of a punk. RED SOLDIER
No! BLU SCOUT He pulls out his bat, you pull out your shovel, and it’s just an accident between two guys who were ‘drinking’ a little too much and horsing around. RED SOLDIER (a quiet admission) He took his pants off. HEAVY raises his eyebrows. BLU SCOUT looks over at HEAVY, lost. HEAVY Then what happens? RED SOLDIER Then he gave me the bat. And when I didn’t take it, he swung at me. And then he-- Look, it’s not important. BLU SCOUT We gotta know what really happened out there, man. RED SOLDIER Is he okay? BLU SCOUT Yeah, he’s gonna be fine. RED SOLDIER Thank god.  Thank god he’s alright. He just wouldn’t stop, not even when I called a timeout, And I thought he was going to hurt himself, we were both bleeding, then he was on the ground and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to do. RED Soldier puts his face in his hands, knocking his helmet askew. Heavy looks at Scout and gives him a little nudge, nodding to the stricken man.  The rookie looks a little shaken, but stands, walks quietly around the edge of the table, and puts his hand on Soldier’s shoulder. SCOUT It’s alright, man. You did fine. Fade to black.  SFX: doink doink INT. PROSECUTOR’S OFFICE - DAY 5 PAULING stands behind her desk, wearing a well-fit and professional pencil skirt and blazer. CONAGHER stands in front of her, hat in hand. SNIPER and SPY hang back near the door. PAULING So you’re telling me we can’t nail this scumbag in court? CONAGHER I’m telling you we don’t know if he is a scumbag, ma’am. SNIPER Scout wants to drop all charges. PAULING Great. Nice work, gentlemen. SPY You can hardly blame us. We did our job, and if there is not a case, then there is not a case. PAULING (to Conagher) If there was a crime, we have to prosecute.  It’s not just up to the victim. You’re telling me you don’t even know if this guy is guilty? CONAGHER He seemed to feel pretty bad. Said it was self-defense, and the kid hasn’t actually said different. PAULING Did you get an expert opinion, or is it just you telling me he ‘seemed’ to feel ‘pretty bad’? Where exactly is your psychologist during all this? Cut to; INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 5 MERASMUS is speaking with a suspect in an unrelated case. There is a leather-bound tome open on the interview table in front of the necromancer, and he wears his customary goat-skull wizarding hood, black nailpolish, and a nice suit. MERASMUS Describe in your own words only the good things that come into your mind about... your mother. SUSPECT My mother? MERASMUS Yes. SUSPECT Let me tell you about my mother. MERASMUS Go on. SUSPECT Well, she only wanted what was best for me. She was always baking, and helping me with my homework. Now that you mention it, I can’t think of anything b- The suspect stops and begins to choke, as the last several words out of his mouth have taken on the consistency of a sort of mucusy mist, levitating out of his mouth and taking form beside the table.  Merasumus chants and performs arcane gestures, his fingers taking on painful, gnarled forms as he mutters indecipherable incantations.  The suspect’s eyes roll in fear as the ectoplasm begins to take form, eventually personifying the spectre of an elderly woman. SUSPECT M...Mom? The ghost begins to shriek demonaically.  Series of cuts between the ghost and the suspect, both screaming. Cut to; INT. PROSECUTOR’S OFFICE - DAY 5 CONAGHER We couldn’t exactly put Merasmus in with him, the fella used to be our suspect’s roommate! PAULING True.  It’s a clear conflict of interest. Cut to close shot of Merasmus crouched over his necro-tome, grinning horribly as he continues to chant.  Off camera, we hear wet crunching, chopping, sloshing noises and burbling screams. Cut back to Pauling’s office. CONAGHER Damn good head-shrinker, though. You know he completely cured my OCD? PAULING Work with me, boys. Focus. Without Dr. Merasmus, what do we have? SPY Medic’s made a study of psychology, hasn’t he? PAULING Licensed? SNIPER Could be. Guy studies for fun; never seen him doing anything in his off time except coursework. CONAGHER (bashfully) Well if it’s just the doctorate... PAULING You qualified, Conagher? What am I saying; I’ve read your file. Let’s do it. General agreement.  The two detectives and their captain head for the door.  SFX: doink doink INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 5 CONAGHER sits opposite the RED SOLDIER, hands folded on the table, expression kindly but firm. CONAGHER Now I know you already talked to a couple of my detectives, but I’m afraid I have to ask you to go over this all again. RED SOLDIER I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about it. I just want to see the boy... apologize. CONAGHER I believe you. RED SOLDIER I didn’t mean to hurt him, not bad. I was scared he was going to hurt himself. There was just... no... stopping him. CONAGHER Tell me the very last thing that happened. RED SOLDIER The very last thing was I ran. I called for an ambulance and then I ran. I’m sorry I did, but I didn’t know what else to do. I never ran from anything in my life, but I didn’t know what else to do. When I got home I was holding his bat in my hands. It’s in my apartment... I didn’t know I took it from him. It’s still there. I just didn’t know what to do. CONAGHER That’s okay. Someone can go and pick it up. What happened before you called the ambulance? RED SOLDIER Hit him. With my shovel. To make him stop. CONAGHER Right before that? RED SOLDIER He took the bat and tried-- Nothing. Just... what I said before. He had his bat and I must’ve panicked. CONAGHER You’re doing real good there, Soldier. Before that he told you to hit him? RED SOLDIER Before that he took off his-- Yeah. Before that he told me to hit him. Just... kept telling me to, and it stopped being just a game and I don’t know what it was. CONAGHER That’s right. He took off his pants about then. RED SOLDIER That part... that’s not important. I mean, as long as you know I didn’t take ‘em off him. He was just... just a little drunk, I guess, and... and who knows why a guy does anything when he’s had a few. Right? CONAGHER Right. Before he asked you to hit him? RED SOLDIER (smiles uncertainly) Before that it was fine. Before that it was fine, we were just sparring, just a couple of old buddies, horsing around. He wasn’t acting too crazy then. For old times’ sake, that’s what he said. Well, heck, I miss those days probably more than anyone... I just-- I miss-- Things were simple then. Cut to the other side of the observation window, where Pauling stands with arms crossed.  Fade out on her face. SFX: doink doink INT. SAN FRANCISCO GENERAL HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - DAY 5 Spy and Sniper meet the RED Scout outside his hospital room, clutching his discharge papers as he limps out on crutches. They walk beside him as he moves slowly down the hallway. Sniper is carrying a brown paper bag wrapped around something. RED SCOUT Sorry guys, I got places to be. SPY This will not take long. RED SCOUT You find my bat? SNIPER Yeah, actually. RED SCOUT Is that it?  Give it here. SPY Soldier told a sad story, kid. And I don’t like the idea of that old warhorse covering for a zippy little pervert such as yourself. RED SCOUT (stops walking) What the fuck you just call me? SNIPER Y’know, this was one of the weirder sexual assaults I’ve ever heard about, but that’s what it was. Assault. And it could have easily been rape. SPY Or manslaughter. SNIPER You have any idea how lucky you were, you tried this bullshit on a man who knows and cares about you, instead of some meathead Ozzie taking his queer-stomping boots for a walk? RED SCOUT
Fuck you, man. I can take care of myself. SPY (leans in close) Listen to me, you tiny idiot. You ever try anything like this again, we will find out about it. Either you cross a line, and we haul you in on actual rape, or we zip you into a bodybag, and have to ID you with dental records against whatever we can pry from between the treads of someone’s size-13s. RED Scout holds Spy’s gaze for a beat, then looks down and starts limping towards the exit again.  When they reach the door, Sniper hands him the bag, and Scout pulls his bat out of it. Spy snatches it away. SPY No.  You’re done with this. Scout looks more confused than angry.  Spy tucks the bat under his arm and reaches into his pocket. He retrieves a pen and a notecard, which he writes something on. He hands the card to Scout, who reads it. RED SCOUT “The Curious Sofa.† The hell is this? SPY It’s the only place on earth that might tolerate your bullshit. There’s a party next week. Go tell them the truth. They might understand. Saying nothing, Scout gives them a final quizzical look and limps down the hospital steps, setting off into the city. SNIPER What was that? Spy crams the well-used bat into a handy trashcan, holding his fingers as it they were tainted or sticky. SPY Ugh, I cannot believe I touched that thing. SNIPER But you’re always wearing gloves. SPY That’s even worse! Spy looks around frantically for something to wipe his hands on, nearly goes for his pants, and changes his mind at the last second, veering off onto Sniper’s jacket. SNIPER Hey!  Gerroff!  Filthy bloody frog! SPY It was a necessary evil, my friend. SNIPER You are such an ass. Augh! SPY Listen, some of us wear labels other than ‘drip dry’. Sniper’s exasperation crosses over into some sort of zen state, and he simply exhales, and pulls out a cigarette. They start briskly down the stairs, headed for their car. Spy lights his own cigarette, musing. SPY It’s almost funny-- not funny, you understand-- SNIPER Go on. SPY You wasted all that breath, lecturing me about “blaming the victimâ€, and yet... SNIPER squints as he takes his aviators out, slipping them on. SNIPER Sometimes you don’t know who the real victim is, that’s all. FADE OUT. END CREDITS [song over credits: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uJefPK_UkdM ] EXECUTIVE PRODUCER: DICKS EVERYWHERE
This. Is. So. Good. Anne, Toxo, thank you for sharing your amazing inner worlds with the rest of us. All the little interactions that just WORK, they click, they carry the story along, and they're funny, and yes, I'm gushing. And you know how sometimes something funny will hit you just right for some reason? HEAVY CAPTAIN! The rest of the people in the office startle, coffee is spilled, papers fly, phones are dropped. A chorus of grumbles follow; this is clearly not an unusual event. TAVISH Or you could do that... My stomach muscles still hurt.
CONAGHER Damn good head-shrinker, though. You know he completely cured my OCD? That's what really got me. Simply beautiful. Oh man. Merasmus and RED Solly. Vietnam was a perfect reference. The whole thing was definitely an awesome twist. I loved the driving scene and the interrogation scenes. And Jane figuring out so much pleased me to no end. Tavish and Jane were wonderful. Ms. Pauling and Dell were fantastic too.
If you hadn't mentioned this fic in the SNUFF thread, Toxo, I probably would've never read this.. I don't watch tv so I was afraid I wouldn't recognize any references to the show.. This was truly wonderful though. And I finally figured out what the doink doink was, haha.
Please please please tell me there will be more of this. Like, "RED-Pyro-gets-kidnapped-by-a-Columbian-drug-cartel-because-RED-Pyro-burned-down-their-warehouse-full-of-drugs, and they're demanding $500,000 in cash from the BLU Pyro for RED Pyro's safe return because BLU Pyro and RED Pyro were buddies, but BLU Pyro hasn't got that kinda cash and has to go to the police for help even though RED Pyro is kinda wanted for a whole bunch of arson and stuff, and there's a car chase and a shoot-out at a wharf," type of more.
>>29 That's actually a damn good plot. And yes, we have more planned! Also I'm buggin' because the L&O:BLU concept art got a Daily Deviation today ahguhalghuahflsdre
>>29 >>30 Wow, that is a good plot... RED Pyro might be the one character we didn't already have something planned out for... Also, rubbing my hands together evilly over all the 'more planned'. >>28 I'm glad you took a chance on us! And, thanks everybody else, seriously, thanks so much.
>>30 I'm going to die of happiness. I'm going to explode in a cloud of joy. I am asphyxiating on unmitigated excitement at this very moment. I... I... I'll stop now.
>>29 And then they have to track down RED Scout at his half-way house, because he knows a couple coke dealers. And he's all like, "Aw man, you guys again. No way am I takin' you guys to my old dealers. I'm done with that life. I'm gettin' clean now." And they're like, "Sure you are. Just tell us where to find 'em and when." And he totally knows a ton a dealers with names like "Ricardo" and "Saul" and "Dizzy." And the only reason BLU Pyro isn't burning down warehouses is because BLU Pyro got a job with forestry services, in charge of the controlled burns and stuff. And BLU Pyro tried to get RED Pyro a job with them too, instead of RED's job at the municipal fire department doing paperwork and shit, but RED couldn't get a job out in the field for either 'cause RED kept going off his meds and setting little fires all over, "just to feel something." So BLU let RED crash at BLU's place to keep an eye on RED, and everything was going really great and RED was taking the meds again, but then BLU got beat up by some coked-out teens 'cause BLU's apartment is in a bad neighborhood, and RED tracked 'em down to the warehouse and set it on fire to teach the punks a lesson. But the coked-out teens were actually the cartel's distributors, so they kidnapped RED Pyro. Also, Saxton Hale is selling koala bears as the perfect family pet. And the cartel is using the koalas to smuggle drugs into prisons when the koalas are brought in to rehabilitate the prisoners. And hat crimes are up 25%.
so am I right to assume RED Sniper is the only RED on the Bad Liasons Unit (haha, oh, Engie)?
>>34 No, it's RED's demoman as well, but they are the only two.
>>35 Ah, right right, Tavish! Thanks
Oh gosh. I love this so, so much. One of my favourites for sure.
>>37 Please don't revive old threads.
>>37 Says the person not saging to someone that did sage (Unless they deleted their post and reposted with a sage).
>>39 I don't know how to sage/don't know how to recognize one. I was just trying to help.
>>40 To sage, just type "sage" into the e-mail box. You can tell a post is saged if the name text is black, and unsaged if the name text is green. However, I'm personally glad you didn't sage, because I never would have found this wonderful fic without this bump, so thank you.